Sarah Kerrigan - The Early Years
by SuperMudz
Summary: A short story for StarCraft. One-shot. A brief look back in time, at the girl Jim Raynor once knew.
1. Chapter 1

**Sarah Kerrigan - The Early Years**

**by SuperMudz**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**SARAH KERRIGAN**

She had learned to use the katana by age fourteen. She had surpassed her instructors within a year.

There were many missions of which were never recorded, some of which are not recorded here, but some few, which were enough to give her a fierce reputation, and dark.

She did not speak of them, and they had learned not to question, but if they had learned to look, they would have noticed that sometimes her eyes were wet. Not even their finest psychics could penetrate that layer of shielding she had created around her mind.

Not even under hours of interrogation would she yield anything, until, out of frustration, they simply gave her a pass – an agent that would not break if the enemy captured her. It was not the result they wanted, but they gave it a positive appearance, despite Sarah Kerrigan now being impervious to their scans, which ordinarily they would never have tolerated.

There are many stories about the one called Sarah Kerrigan, but this is this one.

Not long after she had gotten her first pass with the rifle, something she had handled since eight years old if that, she killed two men. Her instructors, nodded approvingly. She was ready.

She remembered her first instructors. Standing in that cold place – like a warehouse, but nothing was ever stored there. Just levels upon levels of environment training, engagement practises, and other things besides.

They did not know his name, they were never told. The instructors seemed to change from day to day, and even the most sensitive psi probing couldn't keep track of them. But she remembered.

"Omnipotence is based on the understanding of instinct before action. Or the understanding of action before encounter. A man who picks up a rifle and instinctively understands how to use it without training, knows the power of God. And that is what we are going to try and teach you."

And so they did. Hours, days, weeks, years of gruelling training. Picking up rifles, assembling and disassembling – field-made bombs, physical decryption techniques, endless subjects were covered on those cold floors – not even the extent of their training facilities. Sometimes they only got a few hours of sleep at a time – and they were forced to use various system stimulants. They learned to regulate themselves like machines, even if the instructors were the ones to force them.

One of them snapped a few months in, and had to be carted off for rehabilitation. Rehabilitation meant very little. If a Ghost was broken, that was it. If not, the agent would be falling behind, and it was hard to say what that meant, other than they would probably never see her again.

The only person they did recognise on a daily basis was their corps liaison, although his identity was no less opaque than the rest. He arranged their missions, and many other things. He did often instruct them.

He looked up with a wry expression. "It's a partial and imperfect art, but here in the academy, we work and add to it every day. Rest assured you'll be going into the field with the very finest training." He seemed slightly wryly bitter about it for some reason – not obviously, and for no apparent reason.

"The next step in evolution," he said. "That's why they hated us. Shot us out here to scavenge a living, do their dirty work for them. Pioneer these worlds. But we'll be ready for them if they ever show up. These are our worlds now. This is our home."

And later, in her cell, the child who was never allowed to speak her name, Sarah Kerrigan, brooded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**THE AFTERMATH OF THE ZERG**

Everyone had their point of view, but this was one all of humanity shared. The Zerg. The name itself explained everything anyone needed to know.

_Before she had met Jim Raynor._

A smile quirked at her lips. She kept a blade in her equipment. You'd be surprised how useful it'd be. Strengthened along the core with nano-fibre bracing, the steel at least five times stronger than the metals used on Earth a thousand years ago.

You didn't want that to be your weapon when you ran into the Zerg, however. They took the notion of a blade to whole new levels – each creature evolutionary advanced with snapping limbs, claws and scythes that could snap a blade in half. The perfect killers, spawned among the stars. Because of course, they'd have to come from the stars – this vast terror that engulfed space itself. It was like all the fears of space combined.

They came crawling in, searching for every weakness, every vulnerability, corner every cowering human.

They had changed the game. Now it wasn't just humans. They were part of a vast alien chess game, caught in the middle.

(*)

She had been a Ghost, an assassin, of the Confederacy, for years. Since a child. She had had countless missions, and performed flawlessly. She was one of their favourite weapons, but she never loved them, and they never loved her. She hated them, in fact, but hate was like a rigid caging, an armour plate, that kept your posture straight.

Then he had arrived. Arcturus Mengsk. His mind so bright, full of dreams, passions, hopes – and most of all… ambition. He had a mission to fulfil, and she could be one of his greatest soldiers.

He had freed her – and for that, she owed him her loyalty. And then it was missions for the sons of Korhal. Quickly proven, it was not long until she was officially Mengsk's personal lieutenant – as weeks of ordering his men around made the shift an official one only.

She was surprised to discover she liked it. She was choosing her fights for once, choosing something she thought and felt to be right. She realised what is was… being a hero. And that's how she knew she belonged there.

He had found her name. Dug it up out of some old databases. Reading his mind, she knew he spoke the truth – well before she confirmed it for herself. But hearing it, she instantly knew the name was hers, strange as it sounded.

They had tried to make her forget. But she would forget nothing ever again.

(*)

Then she had met Jim Raynor. She didn't tell him, but she had already liked him. Marine armour or not, he seemed to instinctively cut a figure that was to her liking. She didn't hesitate to give him grief, but that was just because she had instinctively decided she was going to work with him. Not that it mattered when she could read his mind.

_"It's not like I'm a telepath," he had objected. Like it mattered. She could take issue with what she liked._

Not that she had had any choice – but it was still when they first met, and so it is relevant to our story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**REBELS**

It was grimy, and difficult work. Every battle was a battle for survival. It was inspiring, seeing the toughness of the human spirit all around them. Humans that eventually became their betrayers. Although it was hard to say who left who. Jim took as many with him as he could. That alone was enough to make him believe. When the time came, and they had the opportunity to be part of the new power, they chose instead to again become the resistance. Fighting the hard fight they knew they had to.

They were the best of humanity he could have asked for. Except that they lost one.

Across the void of space he heard her. It was impossible but he still knew it was true. Like nothing no telepath had ever done before. And he knew something had happened – something new – something dire enough to hear her voice impossibly from beyond the death he knew she was abandoned to.

At once both incredible and horrifying. She was alive, but she was one of the Zerg now. Lost to their predation, a horribly twisted and sadistic version of the woman he knew, and yet she seemed to know him so well – it was the same Kerrigan – but something had happened to her.

His nights and his days were tormented by it – something he had never known before.

She was a master of combat, among other things. Now she was a mass-murdering one-woman event, if you could even call her that anymore.

(*)

_Years ago._

"What kind of man are you?" the question came over the radio.

"A dangerous one. And a busy one."

Raynor had been arguing with the man for nearly five minutes now and was beginning to lose his patience. He got off the radio after a few more terse words. At least they'd be sending in the drop-ships. Commander really should surround himself with less complainers, he thought.

He stepped back out, and spotted her not far away, a little girl braiding her hair. She smiled. "Liberation, huh?" She said as he got near.

"Transport's winding up on the East. It's about three miles to the next checkpoint. Like, about, five klicks." He briefly looked like he was counting it in the palm of his hand.

"You are military. Good."

He rifle was propped right next to her. Even when the danger was gone, the lieutenant apparently didn't let down her guard or preparation. He squinted.

"What?"

"Letting down your hair?"

"Hah."

She was learning not to tap into his mind, or at least appear not to. Not so easy for her, apparently, after she was freed, a lot of the neurological restraint had been unlocked with it. She could be sensitive whether she wanted or not, and although Jim didn't know too much about the secrets of Ghosts, not really, (although more than he wanted), he suspected it meant she was a very powerful psychic.

She studied him. The way he moved. He was surprisingly good for a grunt. He was well trained, but it was more than that. He moved like he understood the battlefield. That was a genuine talent, you didn't often see it outside of the ghost barracks. They were trained to read the terrain, to pick their positioning – to move where the enemy wasn't looking.

"Jim" did all of that, not entirely with the elite grace of a ghost warrior, but effectively and packing some heavy heat. He pulled some manoeuvres even she hadn't seen before, and he seemed to do it instinctively. It was a very good sign for his ability. She was impressed despite her very high standards. She had demanded rigorous training for all the soldiers, but Jim looked like he could pass them without a doubt. No doubt that's why he was recommended – the Marshal knew what he was doing. She was pleased with Mengsk' expert eye for recruitment.

There were very few people that could impress her like that – he might be good enough for her to use on a break-in mission. See if he could prove himself.

He was sitting there, a faint crinkle around his eyes, an ironic smile as he looked at her, lighting up a cigarette. She confirmed it to herself. He was easily better. His confidence was not misplaced.

_He seems to have misplaced that habit lately, though. _She couldn't remember the last time he actually smoked one of those things. And her memory was almost perfect.

A little while later, she was still thinking about it. Still suspicious.

She remembered the grain on the side of the box, but… _son of a bitch. _He had totally slipped it back with sleight of hand. He was _faking _smoking, the son of a bitch. So that's why he had smirked at her. He must have thought it was a good joke.

She had always been a very powerful psychic. Even now she could pick up the rambling ruffings of a dog out on the plain, sniffing around for small rodents. But she had missed that one.

She wondered why, suddenly, though.

(*)

Later, they were taking point on the enemy command centre. She had learned he could watch her back, not so simple-minded as she might have taken him for on first glance. She had quickly confirmed to himself that Jim Raynor was indeed, the kind of man they were looking for.

"Team buddies."

"Are you for real?" she laughed.

He looked around a corner, using a piece of mirror he carried. It was an old trick, but it was another mark in his favour from her perspective.

"We've got some prisoners inside, at least six. I'll take the first corridor."

She nodded. "I'll take Parker and Trey and cover your back."

The mission went without a hitch.

_Just wanted to see if I could fool a psychic. _For once, Kerrigan didn't catch the thought.

(*)

Several years later, Jim Raynor was thinking back – a hint of a smile, quickly overwhelmed by other emotions.

Tough, fierce, independent – he had met a woman in law enforcement somewhat like that a time or two, but even they didn't match up to her temper, her passion, and they certainly didn't have her skill-set. He had thought the world of her, although it didn't do to say that out loud. He would have manned the pod to go rescue her himself, but Mengsk had cut him off completely. He could do nothing but watch and rail in himself himself helplessly. He had instantly decided then he was going to split with Mengsk.

The things that had happened would have staggered the belief of any rational man, but he had seen it all. From the writhing appendages of alien hives, to the strange but beautiful spires of the Protoss on their home worlds, wrapped in wonders or shadows.

It had been a harrowing adventure that had turned to things dark and evil. He had lost some of his soul in the process, the process of seeing hers swallowed up by the Swarm, a plaything of those demons' claws, and she was the greatest of them all.

She was already a killer, Jim knew. But he didn't think she was a murderer. In some ways she seemed almost naïve, a believer. She believed in Mengsk. At least in his mission. He did too. He guessed they both knew better now.

She wasn't a murderer. That was the difference she made. She took what they taught her, and used it to fight for what was right. She was a hero. He hadn't thought much of ghosts up to then. Telepaths, assassins. But he was a fighter too. Unexpected meetings, he supposed – but one… that left its mark on him for sure. Hard to say what it was now.

What could you say about Sarah Kerrigan? A lot, and also nothing that sufficed. There was too much that hadn't happened yet, could have happened but didn't, and things he couldn't even imagine. He trusted in his gut – but he was a long way aways from doing anything about it.

_She was already powerful. And now she was a monster, a nightmare beyond what he could have imagined. And yet something of her remained in there, a semblance of her former beauty, disguised by that horrifying chinitous armour, blades and membrane of the Zerg. By God, sometimes she even moved exactly the same, even with all her strange new alien super-abilities._

_He had heard she tore planes down from the skies now – she fired projectiles from her body like a hydralisk, she tore protoss limb from limb, and she hunted humans with a sickening murderous glee, revenging herself upon them like traitorous ex-lovers. A word that was certainly loathe in his mind, but there was little denying the lust for carnage she displayed. Even tanks would fly apart in shrapnel, the drivers trapped. He had seen the sickening blood-flow for himself._

_Strange for him to know, to have been there before, and to be here now – witnessing the alpha and omega of the person known as Sarah Kerrigan. Their destinies tied together at points, and he wondered what he could do to stop her._

The protoss departed without the answers he wanted - but they were good friends, sensing his sorrow. They left him to brood upon his human plans while they waged a war for their own survival. He would have gone with them, but humanity still needed their own defenders, while Mengsk threw them all into the meat-grinder for his own ascension to power.

He missed the protoss, they were the one true friend he and the rest of humanity had in the galaxy. For all its blessings and curses. There was not a single one among them that wasn't a valuable ally, and they had paid him the same rare respect in return.

More than that, he did not know. Only human after all.

They would be crucial to winning the war against the Zerg, he knew that much. He would just have to come up with a few plans of his own. Kerrigan had made things so much more complicated. They had lost the battle as soon as they had won it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_**NOW**_

_Turned those instincts into service for use to the Overmind. Not so far away as you might think, Jim. _He could never hear her thoughts, at least, not this way. Not except… once…

_(*)_

_She was burning white-hot with energy. A comet among stars. Relentlessly pursued and struck down every one. The protoss, once mighty, fell before her claws, glorious and new they stretched from her back like wings, curving like scythes, the best of the Swarm's mastery over the evolution of murder. One animal murders another, and the Swarm capitulated all before them. For the glory of ascension, perfection, into the ultimate destiny their ancient progenitors had laid down ages ago, so long, it was before all memory, save for the Overmind's and the Cerebrates, themselves ancient beyond all other life-forms. She was yet the daughter of the Overmind, still learning, but learning rapidly._

_Knowledge that the protoss possessed, and she would rip out of them with sinew and talon and destruction. She had the power now._

_She had the touch of power, and would never let it go._

_She was the primal example, the first of the union the Overmind desired. The terrans were more malleable – they yielded to its efforts better than the structure of the stubborn protoss. She was stubborn in her own way, but her flesh could not resist the claws that rended her apart. She might have died before yielding, but that option was not given to her, and so she was remade anew. She was reborn. Sarah Kerrigan of humanity no more, then emissary of the Swarm, then Queen of Blades forever after, now._

She touched the protoss artefact, her power surging through her every vein. She tried to commune with the incommunicable. The things of the protoss possessed power. She reached out, turning the psionic power, bending it to her will if it would yield. The crystal fractured. There was knowledge inside – and she would possess it. This was her mandate. Hers or the Overmind's, it mattered not at this point. It was valuable.

The Overmind knew things even the protoss did not, remembered long before even their oldest members, things even their ghosts did not speak of.

She watched the forms dissipate, letting none of her emotion touch her face.

Traits for which she was selected, perhaps. Why did Mengsk abandon her? Even now in her new form, the answer eluded her. Left to grow on her betrayal, she eventually became greater, and so the answer now was not to understand, but to destroy.

The Swarm was the path to perfection. If there were imperfections in that goal, she would find them in time. She knew the Swarm now, what it was, it's purpose in the universe, whole and consuming, greater than any petty ambition she had known before – Mengsk's scrabble for power in a dirty corner in the universe.

She wondered on Jim Raynor for a moment, then turned the thought away. Whatever he was, it did not matter now.

From helpless damsel to hunter predator, she supposed. The Swarm gave her the power to change her circumstances. Serving a goal higher than petty human ambition, free from their lowly twists and manipulations, with her enhanced senses she could see clearer than ever what she always should have seen. At one with the Swarm she knew a power she had never felt even at the height of her psi development as a ghost.

Everything they had taken and repressed, she had taken back, latent and dormant genes reactivated through the work and omnipotent will of the Overmind that saw the potential in them, what they could be cultivated to achieve in her evolution as Zerg. Through her own quest to reachieve them, to undo the work of the men who had meddled with her mind as a human. And now the protoss were no longer the most powerful beings in the galaxy – she had the strength and the will to match them. To hunt them down and destroy them even in the darkness – there was nowhere the Swarm would not seek, no shadow in which those protoss cowards could hide.

_Cowards? _Perhaps she used the word hastily – but there was little other description for warriors that hid from a fight.

To think she had pestered Mengsk all those years. She had seen the worst of humanity from its darkest corners to its highest, but she still didn't see his betrayal before it happened. He believed what he said, and she had missed the rest.

_But now…_

Now her powers had been amplified ten-fold – and she could hear the echoes of the protoss. Although where the humans had thoughts, these beings were burning lights that could see her. Evading their sight was a new skill that came with the instincts embedded into her new flesh – the darkness that was the power of the Swarm. The Overmind's dark energies covered her, hid her – even from their dark ones. They combated in the dark, and she leapt even into the light to destroy them.

She commanded powers and abilities the equal to any of their own. Her psychic fury rolled across the plain, as her armies swallowed them up. It was true, she could feel the Swarm respond to her rage and might. She flexed her talons, relishing the feeling it gave her – the might.

The overlords did not speak, but they had a rapport now – an understanding, they were less alien to her now, if still brooding creatures. They floated in their gargantuan forms and minds, holding the thought and feelings of a million minions at a time – managing their scurry. It was deceptive to think of the Zerg as mere animals, they moved like armies, there was a strategy and purpose guiding them.

And she added some of her own – leading them into combat. Perhaps the absence of intelligent companions was not so bad, their vast and simple sentience was plenty to consume her, to comfort her.

Their thoughts were compatible with her desires, her vengeance fuelled by their actions. A part of herself. If she chose.

She was a creature with choices now.

(*)

_Cerebrate_

_'This is my form-?' _It looked over itself, with its mental vision, as if wondering at the massive shuddering bulk that was _itself. _

_This is what it was when it was not Zerg._

It felt discomfort at the skittering thoughts surrounding it, and it reached out to the hive. An instinct, embedded deep within the flesh of the structure, responded to it – and organic substance began to wrap around its thoughts – and the pods of new warriors were suddenly germinated in the skin that spread across the surface of the planet.

A small area now, for sure – but it would grow. And then it would reach _up – _to join the greater mass of the Swarm and make it greater still.

It would evolve powerful new warriors, those of worth, might and cunning – that the _Queen (for it sensed her now) _– might benefit from.

It lingered on the taste of something forgotten – like an acid taste – this it gathered from the notion of a million terran minds gathered and dissected in the zerg hives, their brain matter still circulating in the genetic pools which created new forms from them – new weapons for the terran, and for the _protoss. Others._

It wondered at that lingering vacuum, that emptiness that seemed just beyond, like a scar that waited.

It lacked the strength and the limbs to explore that vacuum, but it would strengthen itself and it would seek it out in time – if the Swarm allowed it, and the Queen respected it.

There was once something greater than a cerebrate, it knew. And now it was no more. The bulk seemed to sink momentarily as it absorbed this information, as if the ancient burrowing instincts ignored the improbability of its large mass and armies. Threatened? _Something else._

For now, however – it was Zerg, and it grew.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**AN EPILOGUE**

Raynor thought back to their last moments. The hours before they had to drop into action against the protoss – her on the ground, while he tried to hold them off, protoss and zerg, in the air. Even a fleet of battlecruisers didn't seem like it would be enough. But they had managed in the end – except that it had ended in failure. He kicked himself for not seeing the obvious.

She was like a spectre in his mind sometimes, and he wondered if it had driven him a little mad. "Past me is also me," he could imagine her saying. "So maybe that's what you have to impress." He didn't even know what made the words come to mind. Perhaps only because that's where his only true memories of Sarah Kerrigan was.

He remembered long ago, a conversation they had had.

"Maybe we are too used to our brain being awake so we never tap into these other senses. It's only after you die that you're forced to." She leaned over, a grave silhouette, the canister rifle barely visible, framed against her right cheek from the computer console. It had been a sombre image.

He wondered about those things often now, now that she was gone. As if perhaps he could gain some semblance of an inkling of where she had gone, what had become of the true Kerrigan. Of what might have been, although he never would have spared a thought for anything like it before.

He had never had anything which he had lost quite so much.

And so, for now, Raynor thought of his memories, even while he commanded the fleet that would meet her in person…

**THE END**


End file.
